


Days Like These

by Ryu_ookami



Series: Snapshots of Sherlock [2]
Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: Crack, Gen, Humor, IKEA Furniture, john worries, john worries even more, mycroft sighs, sherlock meets his true nemesis
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-06-30
Updated: 2013-06-30
Packaged: 2017-12-16 16:12:26
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,128
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/863996
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ryu_ookami/pseuds/Ryu_ookami
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sherlock's having one of those days. Is it a bomb plot? An assassination attempt? Or is it something even worse? A lot of sighing occurs. An awful lot of sighing.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Days Like These

“Inconceivable! Illogical! It has to be here, it has to be! I'm missing something... what am I missing? It's there, it has to be there.” Sherlock continued pacing back and forth.

“Uh, Sherlock, perhaps a cup of tea would help,” Mrs Hudson suggested quietly whilst trying not to agitate Sherlock any further than he already was. 

Sherlock ignored her and continued pacing.

“A leads to B which leads to C which leads D so how by all the rotting leprous satyrs of Hades does R come before C?” Sherlock muttered to himself.

At this point Mrs Hudson decided that even a nice cup of tea wouldn't solve this problem and was now quickly dialing the two emergency phone numbers she had been given for 'just in case' Sherlock’s mental state ever deteriorated into such a condition again.

“This is Dr John Watson. Please leave a message after the beep and I’ll get back to you as soon as possible,” came John's calm voice over the phone before there was a beep. 

“Dr Watson, you have to come back straight away. It's Sherlock,” she stated hurriedly into the phone before hanging up hoping he got the message soon. She started ringing the second number with just a hint of trepidation.

“You know who you are and so do I. If you have this number then you know who I am or you're about to make my acquittance whether you want to or not. You can leave a message after the beep if you want, but I already know who you are, where you are and what you are going to say. and more importantly I know what you did and where you hid the body.” Mycroft's droll message was delivered in a rather flat voice that sounded menacing despite it's lack of inflection.

“Mr Holmes it's Mrs Hudson. It's about Sherlock. You asked me to contact you if he ever got that bad again. I'm afraid it has,” sighing she hung up the phone wondering about the strange message before staring at Sherlock who while still pacing had also progressed to chewing several nicotine patches.

Thirty minutes later the first of the two men she had called came running up the stairs.

John looked at Mrs Hudson inquiringly. 

“I'm fine, it's Sherlock,” she pointed at Sherlock who by now had progressed to rocking in the corner whilst holding a one sided murmured conversation with the skull he was currently holding.

John leaned in a little closer so he could hear what Sherlock was mumbling.

“Okay, follow the clues Sherlock. There are always clues. A to B to R to C to D overlapped by Z6 and 3T and L7.”

John looked at Mrs Hudson. “I called the other Mr Holmes as well,” she answered his unasked question.

“Yes, it sounds more like his type of thing.”

“His type of thing?” Mrs Hudson asked questioningly. 

“Yes, code and clues and Z6's it all sounds rather cloak and dagger, you know Spy Stuff.” John finished lamely. Mrs Hudson could almost hear him pronounce the capital letters. She nodded in agreement and they both turned to stare at Sherlock who seemed to have increased his rocking speed if the chattering of the skull's jaw was any indication of speed.

“Yes it does rather, doesn't it?” came a cultured voice from behind them. Both John and Mrs Hudson turned to watch as Mycroft entered the room from the hallway.

“Added eavesdropping to your numerous talents have you Mycroft?” John asked archly.

“I prefer to think of it as non-consensual displaced information acquisition,” he replied succinctly.

Mycroft turned to look at Sherlock and sighed. “Mummy said there would be days like this.”

“Days like this?” Mrs Hudson inquired.

“Yes. Mrs Hudson, I'm going to need to ask you a few questions.”

“Okay, yes ask Mrs Hudson your questions, but what about your brother, those numbers and letters? How do you know it's not a bomb plot or an assassination attempt?” John asked, interrupting with a worried frown.

“Bomb plot?” Mycroft looked at John with puzzlement. “Why would it be a bomb plot?”

“The last time Sherlock had a set of numbers like this it turned out to be an aeroplane full of dead people you were planning to blow out of the sky, so why wouldn't I think it could be a bomb plot?” John challenged indignantly.

Mycroft sighed again. “Mrs Hudson, has my brother had a package or large parcel delivered recently?”

“Yes, just this morning,” came the reply from Mrs Hudson, who was wondering when her life had become so insanely strange.

“So maybe he was poisoned by an unknown chemical or bio-weapon on the package and is hallucinating!” John interrupted again anxiously.

Mycroft sighed again and started to rub his forehead he was starting to get a tension headache, it always happened whenever he was around Dr Watson but when his mummy had found out that Sherlock had a new friend and flatmate she had immediately made Mycroft promise to not make this one disappear just to irritate his younger brother like he had the previous ones.

“Dr Watson, when have you ever known anyone to be deliberately poisoned?” Mycroft asked just knowing he wouldn't like the answer the moment the question left his lips.

“Well...there was the case with the dominatrix, the case with the giant dog...” John started to reply. 

Mycroft interrupted him. “Yes, yes, please stop, I regret asking. Mrs Hudson, the package would have had a large A4 sized booklet with it, could you be so as kind to retrieve it for me please?” Mycroft asked still rubbing his forehead.

Sighing, Mrs Hudson turned to leave. “Just this once dear, but remember, I'm their landlady not their housekeeper.”

Mrs Hudson returned a few minutes later with a puzzled expression and a few pages of A4 paper. “All I could find were these.”

John craned his neck to try and get a better look at the pages. Ignoring him, Mycroft rolled the papers up and walked over to his brother, lifted his arm up and brought the papers down sharply on his brothers head with a loud thwap that made Mrs Hudson wince.

“Sherlock Holmes, how many times have you been told to stay away from flat packed furniture?” Mycroft demanded, there was a thud behind him as Dr Watson, realising what the numbers and letters had really meant, fainted in amazement.

“Hello Mycroft, when did you get here?” Sherlock replied, blinking and then standing up as though he hadn't just been rocking in the corner.

Mrs Hudson walked into the kitchen to put the kettle, deciding that she was better off not knowing, her mother had warned her that there would be days like these.

 

*fin*


End file.
